Sunday, August 27, 2006

THE FUCKING SUN IS BURNING OUT?

The Rubber Meets The Road, Part I will be up soon enough. In the meantime we interupt this broadcast for a commercial message...

"Be Here To Love Me", the docu-DVD of the life of Townes Van Zant from Director Margaret Brown is A+++ with a bullet. Two thumbs up. Toes too. Not because I dig Townes but because Brown and company did such an incredible job.

Townes was a singer-songwriter. A singer-songwriter's singer-songwriter actually. One of my favorites. One of the best ever. Let me put it into perspective... Bob Dylan sat literally MESMERIZED by him.

He came from the same mould of a long list of Texas singer-songwriters like Joe Ely, Lyle Lovette, Guy Clark, Nanci Griffith, Jimmy Dale Gilmore, Kris Kristofferson, Delbert McClinton, et al. But ask any of them... Townes was the best. They all dream to touch perfection like Townes could. And Townes? He just blew it off. The songs he said, came through him. He just wrote em down.

He was a cult hero and like any cult hero there are a gazillion stories. But it really only takes four short anedotes to cut it to the bone...

"I don't envision a very long life for myself, ya know.
Like I think my life will run out before my work does, ya know.
I've designed it that way"

One day in the third grade the teacher annouced it was time to talk about science. She talked about the universe, the sun, the solar system. And she said, "The sun is a star and, like any star, it is burning out. And she went on and on but Townes had heard nothing beyond "the sun is burning out!" Finally he interupted her and said...

"The sun is burning out? I have to polish my shoes, clean my plate, sit up straight, do my homework, be on time, and THE FUKING SUN IS BURNING OUT?

That formed his life. From that day forward Townes lived his life as if the sun was burning out tomorrow.

Then one night at a party in college he fell from a balcony just to find out what it would feel like. Years later he explained...

"I decided I was going to lean over and just see what it felt like, all the way up to, approaching when you lost control and you were falling. And I realized that to do it, you know, I would have to fall. Like I just started leaning back really slow, and really paying attention, and fell you know, and I landed 4 stories down just flat on my back. I can remember the impact, exactly what it felt like. Good lord!"

That defined his life.

Right after he got married for the first time he locked himself in the closet that served as his music room. When he came out it was with his first song. His new bride expected a romantic ballad. Instead it was "Waitin 'Round To Die".

Sometimes I don't know where this dirty road is taking me
sometimes I can't even see the reason why
I guess I keep a-gamblin, 'lots of booze and lots of ramblin'
it's easier than just waitin' around to die

On New Years Day, 1997, the sun burned out and Townes hit the ground. He was dead from heart failure.

His writings covered the whole range of emotions. I've turned lotsa people on to Townes and they'll ask, well, what kind of music? I tell em, therapeutic! Maybe it was because he could touch any number of different people yet each one would have their own subjective experience like it was just them and Townes sharing some deep dark secret. How someone could write about hopelessness and misery in a way that, when you heard it, it would cheer you up at the same time is beyond me. Maybe it was because you just somehow knew you weren't alone anymore. Townes was walkin beside you.

You know, every once in awhile over the course of a lifetme something magic happens. I'm not talkin about slight of hand stuff or allusion. I'm talkin about the real deal, real magic. And when it happens, you cherish it. To me, Townes was magic. I never knew him... but then, I did in a woo-woo sorta way. I did get to see him once. It was here in town at Blind Willie's about a month or two before his death. It would have been memorable anyway just "for the sake of the song" but it turned out to be particularly poignant. I couldn't get there until the show had started for some forgotten reason and he was on break when I took a seat at the bar. I'll never forget him stumbling out from the back. I mean literally stumbling and running into things walking the crookedest way on a straight path to the stage. Stumbling not like he was drunk or high but more like he was wandering disoriented in space searching for a home. Suddenly our eyes met and locked and he stopped dead in his tracks. A big huge grin came over his face as he passed by me as if we had re-discovered some long lost, yet enegmatic, connection. I haven't a clue what it all meant to him but to me it was magic.

Later, after the show, I went back backstage which was really just an old room stuck on the side of the building. I had not wanted to invade his space but I felt drawn back there. The door was open and somebody from the club said it was okay. Even walking in from the darkness of the club it took some time to adjust and focus in the even darker room that turned out to be totally empty except for a dirty ole 30's-ish period, overstuffed couch. The room was long and narrow, shotgun like and so narrow the couch had to be slung back hard against the long wall that seemed 10 times longer than the couch and was pushed all the way back into the darkness so the far arm of it was hard up against the far wall.

And there, in the darkness, sat Townes. He had stuffed himself into the back corner of that couch and was all huddled up as if he were trying to disappear or he'd crawled completly inside himself. I was totally taken aback by the sceene and a bit shy in his presence anyway dispite the earlier eye contact.

Here, in the midst of this, was the guy through which had come all those incredible songs. And then, with the memory of the haunting emotional tone of those songs echoing through me, suddenly it all fit. I remember him coming out of his shell just long enough to gesture for me to come ahead. I walked down into the darkness and sat down on the couch leaving what I hoped was a respectable distance from him. I sat there for what seemed like a very long time just staring ahead at the blank wall 3 feet away and not saying a word. I didn't look at him and he didn't look at me. We both just sat there staring at the wall. Then slowly, I pulled off my shirt, handed it to him along with a pen, and he signed it. He looked at me as he handed it back and I pulled it back on. We looked at each other for a moment as we each broke into a slow smile. As I got up I gave him a slow wink, a nod, and a thumbs up. Then I turned and walked away. A month later he was dead. I'll never forget it.

Sometimes words are necessary, like for the sake of the song. And sometimes they're superfulous.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

With God On Our Side

"I was a very minor missionary, actually a heretic, but I toiled wholeheartedly in the vineyards because it was fun, fun, fun. Where else could a red-blooded American boy lie, kill, cheat, steal, rape and pillage with the sanction and blessing of the all-highest?"

Those disturbing words were written by George Hunter White, AKA Morgan Hall, upon his retirement in 1966 from civil service in a farwell letter to his boss, co-conspirator, and co-pusher of ultra-refined, psycotropic alkaloids, Dr. Sidney Gottleib, director of the CIA run COINTELPRO (counterinteligence program) commonly known as MK-ULTRA.

I could pick any number of anecdotes to set the stage for what is to come here. But those words are particularly poignent.

White and Gottleib were real sweathearts crawing around in the underbelly of the 50's and 60's American counter-culture who's antics were sanctioned by the collective, denied fear of post WW TWO Americans poised at the threshold of the coming cold war. Shaking in our collective boots over the post-war threat of communism and deep into war with North Korea exacerbating the threat we turned our collective heads giving priviledge to worms like White and Gottleib.

Too busy in pursuit of our individual slice of the American Dream to look. Truth be known we DIDN'T WANNA LOOK!

Ya, we were naieve. And we didn't have the internet. But the evidence was there. Hidden in plain sight!

Adding to, further justifying, and further twisting this empowerment in the minds of White, Gottleib, and a long list of other "Great Ameicans" was one of the main principles of Hagelism... thesis, antithesis, synthesis... explaining the process of deliberately enacted social disorder and change as a road to power.

Gottleib's boss in the glory days of MK-ULTRA was none other than Allan Dulles , then director of the CIA. Dulles was directly responsible for launching the US government as the first ILLEGAL domestic manufacturer and distributor of LSD. According to the late Michael Kreca in his 2001 classic "How The US Government Created The 'Drug Problem' In The USA, Dulles is the one who persuaded pharmiceutical giant Eli Lilly to "synthesize the drug contrary to existing international patent accords" and make it available to the agency for their own discretinary distribution.

Where am I going with this?

Stay tuned for in the next post, The Rubber Meets The Road, Part I, we're on our way to explore where the yellow brick road never dared to go.

And where does that road lead?

I'll give you 3 guesses and the first two don't count!

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Will The Real God Please Stand Up

Three and a half days. Thats how long its been since I put up the Free Energy post. Steorn (pronounced shtyorn... its galic) has a counter on their webpage reporting that over 3100 scientists have expressed interest in accepting the challenge to test the technology. Thats 1800 more in the last 84 hours. Roughly 20 per hour. And their just gettin' a good start.

We're into the 7th day and 37,741 people have registered to recieve notice of the results. Thats over 24,000 more since I last posted.

I did a google on key word * steorn * right before I published 84 hours ago and got 110,000 hits. I just did it again and got over 586,000 hits.

Steorn is also running an opinion poll. Visitors can vote YES or NO to the question: "Do you think the scientific community should accept our challenge?" There are 94,850 votes cast so far, roughly 65,000 more.

None of that surprises me.

But this does... SIXTY SEVEN PERCENT VOTED NO!!! Thats nearly 7 out of 10 who don't want something like this to be real. It was 54%... still surprisingly high to me.

So 67% of the people responding DON'T think the scientific community should test a technology that, were it to be found valid, could very possibly make oil obsolite as an energy source! That would make a key motivation for much of what is going on geopolitically and militarily, all over this planet, a mute point!! And thats just the tip of the iceberg!!!

WHY???

Would 67% of the people have voted no to Columbus testing the "world is flat" belief system? It would likewise have surprised me. But now, I would bet they would. Probably even higher.

What would something besides a flat world mean to those people? Would they be afraid they would fall off and tumble uncontrolably into oblivion? I mean, we are talking about a pretty drastic challenge to world view at the time. Would it mean they'd have to throw their bibles over the corncrib?

Is that what this is all about? God? Interpretations? Polarized points of view? Images?

And what's under all that? FEAR?

Hell, if Steorn's technology works it appears it would defy the first law of thermodynamics. Thats pretty drastic. That means we can throw the physics book over the corncrib too.

So now, now that I've been surprised, gotten over the initial shock of it, and begun to ponder my own question, WHY, I'm no longer surprised.

WHY?

Because as I feel into all this I feel.... FEAR!!! Lots of it. Not just my own but COLLECTIVE FEAR. We would no longer know what we thought we knew.

Instead we would be faced with the great un-known. The whole understanding of the physical universe would be turned upside down. We would be out of control. Hell the whole damn physical universe would be out of control. And that dear readers, scares the shit otta us!

Terror! You know... one of those "negative" emotions. That stuff to be gotten rid of. That shit that feels like shit...so hated we deny it in every way imaginable.

There just so happens to be a little known suggestion that holds: denial draws experience equal to or greater than the denial so that the denial, in a state of acceptance for it, can be cleared and moved out.

Holy shit! Could that be what the war on terror is really all about?

Why, do 7 out of 10 people not want the scientific community to investigate and test a technology that could potentially resolve so much human suffering?

I'll tell ya what Palooka say. Palooka say, its all about the unseen role of denial darlin'!

We got lots of it going on here already and the scientific experiments haven't even started yet. We got 67% of the people saying THEY DON'T WANNA LOOK!

And I tell ya what else Palooka say. Palooka say its all about the spirit/body split.

Denial of the role of spirit by body. A denial of some greater, grander law. A denial that manifests as materialism for example. A denial of the intended perfection of the universe... that, a universe and its manifested spirits moving along in balance would be a self-sustaining, living, loving organism moving in evolution along destiny's path.

And least you think Palooka be thumpin his bible here it is a denial by spirit of Body's Godly role as well. A denial that manifests as creationism for example. There is alot more to body than just a vessel to tote spirit around in during physical manifestation. Spirit keeps forgetting that without physical manifestation it's just a wet dream!

Palooka say, they are both right! And they are both wrong. Both are so twisted and fragmented into extreem polarized points of view, even within their own camps. No place for any other reality than that held within their own... its just too threatening to consider the implications of a reality beyond their own held images.

Will the real God please stand up.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Free Energy

This is very interesting...

London, 18th August 2006: Steorn, an Irish technology development company, has today issued a challenge to the global scientific community to test Steorn’s free energy technology and publish the findings.

Quote:

Our Technology and the Laws of Physics
Steorn’s technology produces free, clean and constant energy. This provides a significant range of benefits, from the convenience of never having to refuel your car or recharge your mobile phone, to a genuine solution to the need for zero emission energy production. It also provides a secure supply of energy, since the components of the technology are readily available.
The technology is in a constant state of development. The company has focused for the past three years on increasing power output and the development of test systems that allow detailed analysis to be performed.
Steorn’s technology appears to violate the ‘Principle of the Conservation of Energy’, considered by many to be the most fundamental principle in our current understanding of the universe. This principle is stated simply as ‘energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it can only change form’.
Steorn is making three claims for its technology:
The technology has a coefficient of performance greater than 100%.
The operation of the technology (i.e. the creation of energy) is not derived from the degradation of its component parts.
There is no identifiable environmental source of the energy (as might be witnessed by a cooling of ambient air temperature).
The sum of these claims is that our technology creates free energy.

Here's some skinny on Steorn.

Palooka say, aside from the obvious benifit to the world and her peoples I'd just love to see oil taken out of the picture today just to watch the global geo-political power-mongers squirm.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Dark Side Of The Moon

Sheding some light on the dark side of the moon.

Palooka wisdom say: Before jumping on any high horse, turn it over and check out the underbelly.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Masturbating With Watermelon

Once you've tasted the real thing, jerkin' off just never quite cuts the mustard. There is no substitute for makin love with your honey. And you learn real quick that orgasm is just the frosting on the cake... no pun intended.

'Course, sometimes your content with just licking the bowl. But when you want yer cake and eat it too you want the whole enchelada.

So it is with watermelons. Eating one of these genetically modified seedless excuses just don't cut it. Its like unrequited love... it never quite sasifies.

I bought one the other day and put it in the garage refrigerator to get good and cold and wait for the mood to strike.

Then I forgot about it.

Then, earlier this evening, it started. Faint at first. So faint I couldn't even identify it. Just a yearning poking away at me. A need. A want. I WANT!

WHAT?

Finally it got strong enough to enter my conscious mind. WATERMELON! I want WATERMELON!!

Then my head really got its shit together. I GOT WATERMELON!! So out to the garage I went. And back with the coveted fruit.

Now, when you grew up growing watermelons in rich, black, Iowa farm dirt you know watermelons. You know it was back in the good ole innocent days before mad geneticists got their mitts in the melon patch. And you know from experience. And you remember because its a sensuous experience. And its sensuous because the senses know.

The ears know. They know when you thump it. And they know when you cut it open. Know from the sound... Craaaccckk! POP!!

The nose knows. You know by the scent... DISTINCT!  Like essence is distinct!!  And you know that its ripe.  That its right time.  Just right.

The Eyes know. Know from the color... a thin green skin over a pale green rind and then, RED. Stark Red. Red red. Watermelon Red! With Seeds!!

The fingers know. They know from the texture of the meat and the rind... CHRISP!

And the taste buds know.

This one, the only variety available at the stores these days (public demand they say), looked and sorta smelled like a watermelon before I cut it. But the masquerade ended there. The fantasy was in trouble as soon as I put knife to nectar. And it went down hill from there.

No craaaccck, pop under the knife. No red Red. But alot of that whitish looking layer where the rind turns into the fruit.  Its usually a pretty thin layer. That color extended way into the fruit. Never really getting watermelon red. Just sorta, well, SICK LOOKING!

Taste? Put one of these modern miracles in your mouth and its immediatly obvious something is missing besides the seeds.

Texture? Can you say RUBBER? You do the finger test. Stick a finger in the meat and the cells break away. Mine was like a half deflated balloon and the rind was like a sponge.  A dead sponge that'd been sittin in a cess pool and drowned.

Rubbish!

But, hands down, the final evidence that you've just eaten good watermelon, real watermelon, comes when you've eaten your fill and you be SASIFIED!!

I know!

I just did!!

And I STILL WANT WATERMELON!!!

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Nights When I Am Sane

We buried him at high noon on a sweltering saturday in August 10 years ago. I had been sitting by myself out on the back deck at my sister's house. Waiting. Grieving. Trying to make some sanity out of the insanity.

Then they came to me and said, "You're the patriarch now. Will you say some words?"

For a long time only the tears came. Then...

There was a time when he was young
When the winds blew free and life was fun
He was mostly quiet as I recall
He feared he was short but, to me, he stood tall

The oldest one on a mission to please
The books, the sports... it all came with ease
He could tell ya 'bout numbers cause he was bright
And I'd seen him hit many a ball clean otta sight

We grew up together on a farm not far
Worked in the fields, played in the yard
He might whup yer butt in a corncob fight
But he was always there when things weren't right

Then one day he was gone
College, a wife, two daughters, three sons
The time flew by, the years marched on
What he loved most scattered hither and yon

His world had begun to fall apart in a pile
Took comfort in a bottle of gin for awhile
On what looses for one, another might win
Well, he was the former and the demons moved in

Only God knows what lurks in the hearts of men
When the winds stir cold, the clouds move in
When the pain in your heart is all you can see
And every part of your soul aches to be free

Now the winds blow cold for you and for me
But for our brother they finally blow free

Mickey Newbury's Nights When I Am Sane is one of my favorite cd's. I play it regularly. Its bittersweet because the title cut reminds me of what was probably going through my brother the night he did the deed. He just simply couldn't stand the pain anymore....

Well its cold on this mountain... when winter comes on
The dew in the meadow is sprinkled along
This road down to Nashville like crystal and stone
Its a place where a man sells his soul for a song

God knows I loved her too much I can see
Much more than she could have ever loved me
If I was the last man in east Tennessee...

Well at times I feel I need the rain at times I need the sun
Pleasure is a thread of pain when it is undone
My moments of insanity are never like a chain
I only know I am not free the nights when I am sane

So do not be concerned my love if you see me cry
For the laughter does not choose to free the happiness inside
Just as there may seem to be a smile that's out of place
It only means there is a pain that hurts too much to face

God knows I loved her too much I can see
Much more than she could have ever loved me
If I was the last man in east Tennessee...

I'm just one man sometimes I wish I was three
I could take a forty-four pistol to me
Put one in my brain for her memory
One more in my heart then I would be free
One more in my heart I would be free

R.I.P. my brother.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Die To Live Is An Imprint!!

Thats right. An imprint!!

You mean like a mark made by pressure ?

Thats right. A belief system that started out as a judgement thats become encoded in the intricate twistings of the DNA strand by an ancient, mysterious, highly energetic, explosion in the electro-magnetic wonderment of the spiraling, evolving, Greater Cosmic Forces that are. The universe!

Oh!

But if there is death involved then its anti-life I tell ya. And if its anti-life, its anti-love and that means its anti-God. Anti-loving God anyway. I'm with Gloria Gainer... as long as i know how to love/ i know i will stay alive .

That's the only God I'm hangin with if I can help it.

Anti-God? What the hell is that? No pun intended! Does anti-God equal anti-love? And if God is Light then what is Loving God? Loving Light?

Sounds reasonable.

So what then is anti-God? Anti-light? Bad light?

How about, un-loving light.

Okay, un-loving light then. That sounds reasonable too.

But wait just a minute here, I thought the boogie man was the darkness. That's what everybody says. You know, that lucifer creep. Beelzebub. The devil. Evil. Satin. Tthe anti-god. The great tempter. The great deceiver. The capitolist's capitolist. The grim reaper. Now you tell me its unloving light.

So the die to live imprint is one of the most vile, self denying, events to have ever come down the pike in the eons of time and the great, unloving light guru knows exactly how to play the drum.

Alas, it is most pervasive too. Because its obvious... everybody's got it.

And that b'jesus fella is involved too. But, He's learnin!

So, what then is the darkness if not the devil which is instead, unloving light?

That's a subject for another discussion. And by the way, that imprint, its held in the receptor centers too.

The what? The receptor centers? What the hell is THAT? Man this is really gettin deep.

That'll have to wait for another discussion too.

In the meantime, you can die to live if you want to. Be a hero. Sacrifice yerself. Lift out and head for the wild blue wonder where the throne is gold, the music is angelic, and the spirit knows no sorrow. It also knows not its own body and will. Those are conveniently left behind... LOST... to feel all the pain and compression (pressure) of the process.

Me i prefer to keep all of me here. All of me. My spirit. my will. my body. And oh ya, heart too. If I can.

I no longer believe that I cannot recover my entire self... IN THIS LIFETIME!!

Wish me safe passage.